


Promise, Regret, Forget

by MaraudingManaged



Series: Musical Maraudings [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Narcissa is 2 years older than Remus not 5, Remadora mentioned but not central, Remus Lupin Lives, Romance, not a HEA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 13:25:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16159841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaraudingManaged/pseuds/MaraudingManaged
Summary: When Remus Lupin meets a little girl in a park at 9 years old, he has no idea what fate has in store for him.





	Promise, Regret, Forget

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Sing-Me-A-Rare Vol.2. Much love to my Alpha and Beta, shootingdaggers and extraordinari - you both cheered me on and corrected my shit. I owe you a lot!  
> My song prompt was The Days, by Avicii. It is a song I love totally and utterly.
> 
> Winner:  
> Best Angst, Best Unhappy Ever After, Best 5-10k, Best Use of Song, Wish It Could Be Canon, Judge's Pick (JadePresley), and Overall Winner. 
> 
> Runner Up:  
> Best Romance

 

 

**Part One**

_Remus stares down at the body of his wife._  
_  
Her eyes are closed, he notes as he vaguely feels his creaking knees hit battered stone and his breath rages in fierce pants. Her hair - her ever-changing hair - is turquoise; but it is streaked through with ribbons of red so unnatural to her. The colours mingle and clash, somehow making her already ivory skin appear translucent and ashen._

_He tries to brush them out, but a cry escapes his lips when he feels how cold she is, and how wet those ribbons are, and how dirt and blood from his own palms mingle in the innocent shade of the sea._

_But of course she is cold, Remus thinks as he grasps her face, shaking her. Because she is dead, just like everyone in his life that has ever mattered to him. He knows that his voice is crying out in hoarse yells, his heart is thundering in his ears, and he is fishing for his wand to try anything,_ everything _, he can to try and force Dora’s life and magic back into her still, pale body. But it is not his voice, not his hand, that is calling out spells. It is like he is watching a stranger, hoisting him about like the marionettes he’d seen at the beach one summer, so many moons ago._

_Nothing works, and Remus is crying now. He knows no shame, no other feeling but this never-ending sorrow as he hunches over the body of his wife. His forehead touches hers, and his tears drip in rivulets down her cheeks - if only he were a phoenix, he thinks. If only the tears that fell could revive her, instead of drowning them both in their waves._

_A gentle hand rests on his shoulder, and he tries to shrug it off. “Leave me be.” Remus begs, not looking up at the intruder, but the hand holds tighter and nails dig in. Feminine nails - too long to be Harry or Hermione, or Ron or Molly. Arthur. Anyone who might be able to help him._

_“Lup… Remus.”_

_The voice is anguished, but it stills him completely. Stiffly, he raises his head up from Dora’s form, his eyes blurred and stinging, and meets the icy blue-grey ones that hover above him, rimmed in red of their own. Her blonde hair is an unholy mess, robes no longer pristine, hands trembling by her sides. But there is no mistaking her._

_He snarls, and he’s on his feet in less time than it takes for his torn heart to beat, all physical pain forgotten; he thrusts wand-tip into the hollow of her pale throat before she can cry out, or even blink._

_“You! You did this! You murdered my wife!”_

 

 **Under the tree where the grass don't grow** ****  
**We made a promise to never get old** ****  
**You had a chance and you took it on me** **  
** **And I made a promise that I couldn't keep.**

 

“You do know that if you sit with that book any closer to your face, it will make your eyes go strange and you’ll need spectacles.” An imperious voice startled Remus from his copy of the Tales of Beedle the Bard. His heart began to thunder and he made movements as quickly as he could to try and hide the story book - his Da would kill him if he found out he’d taken it from the house without permission. He didn’t even dare to think what he might say if he found out Remus had been caught with a magical book by a muggle. Even if he was in the magical part of London; and even if it was, truthfully, a magical park.

“Oh, calm down and don’t ruin that poor book. I think I’ve heard all the tales, you know. Which is your favourite? I like The Three Brothers, personally. I understand it’s a parable - the Elder Wand, the Cloak, the Stone - they don’t exist. But it’s to teach us a lesson that…”

“Too much power is bad, that we can’t get lost in the past, and that everyone should be a friend to death when the time comes?” Remus offered timidly, keeping his face downcast and away from the stranger.

“Well, perhaps.” A slight shadow cut across his spot under the tree, and he finally looked up at his intruder.

She was pretty - with blonde hair and wintery, silvery-blue eyes that caught the sun - and wore a fancy dress in pale green, with a white lace collar and trim. Remus thought she looked a bit like a little Victorian doll - like the ones his Mam collected - with their creepy faces, and eyes that seemed to follow you around.

“I suppose you’re a wizard then? I’m going to Hogwarts this September. Will you be starting soon? I’m ever so excited to meet some new people. I live with two sisters, but they’re both at Hogwarts already, and it is so very lonely in the house.” The little girl flicked her hair backwards in a cascade of blonde, and he caught the scent of cherry blossom in the air.

“I, uh,” Remus blinked, barely keeping up with her as her mouth moved. She hardly gave him a moment to think about his answers before she rattled on.

“I just went to get my wand. It’s so pretty; Mama says it suits me. My sister Bella thinks that I’m being silly about how it looks, and it’s the power that’s most important; but ‘Meda, she’s the middle one of us, thinks that appreciating your wand is good as you’ll take proper care of it.”

“I don’t have a wand yet. I wouldn’t be going to Hogwarts for two more years.” Remus blurted to try and get her to _stop talking_ for a few seconds so his brain could catch up.

Her eyes grew wide, and she sat down on the edge of the blanket he’d laid out under the tree to read on. “Oh! I… well.” She blushed a little. “I thought you looked older. I’m so sorry; and here’s me talking your ear off about school when you don’t get to go yet! I’m ‘Cissa; what’s your name?” She thrust out her hand for Remus to take, and he flinched back before he could stop himself. She looked hurt, and drew her hand back, cradling it to her chest as if wounded.

“No, I’m sorry! I just… I don’t touch people.” He tried to explain, frowning. How could he explain his fear of passing on the curse when he couldn’t explain he was a werewolf? “I’m Rem.” He said instead.

“Hmm. Did you know your eyes changed colour, just for a minute?” Little ‘Cissa cocked her head, examining him, and Remus’ whole body become cold and clammy.  

“Uh.. d-did they? Weird, that.” He stuttered, looking down at his knees quickly and berating the wolf in his mind. _It’s daylight, you idiot! Go away!_ “Must be a t-trick of the light.” That was what his Mam always used to say when someone in passing noticed the wolf bubbling below the surface on the day of a full moon, and it usually worked.

‘Cissa was not as convinced as the average passerby on the street. “There are magical creatures that change eye colours. I read about it in Newt Scamander’s _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ \- we have to have it for school, and my Governess has ensured I’m well read. There’s Veela, whose eyes go black before they shift into their birdlike form - but they’re nearly always female. Vampire eyes change when they’re converted, but it’s daytime right now and they would usually be sleeping or indoors. And werewolf eyes flash amber in the days leading up to the moon, when the curse is nearest the surface. It’s the full moon tonight, isn’t it? That’s what my Astronomy planner says.” She asked innocently, conversationally.

Remus paled, nausea gripping his stomach. “I have to go.” He stumbled to his feet, making to run away before he got into more trouble, but a small hand shot out and grabbed his bony wrist in a vice-like grip before he could escape.

“Please, Rem. I’m not scared.”

“You should be.” His little voice wavered, sounding not at all as terrifying as he hoped, and he tried to pull his hand back. The girl was strong, and he frowned before tugging again.

She giggled. “Oh, terrifying.”

Remus felt a timid smile fight its way onto his face at her playfulness, and let her pull him to sit back down. “There, that’s better.” She declared. “So tell me - what brings you to London?”

He shrugged, still nervous, and leaned a little further from the girl in order to try and preserve some semblance of distance. “Da is getting a Floo connection set up for our new house. We’re moving to Wales tomorrow.”

‘Cissa looked disappointed. “Oh. Why are you moving to dreary old Wales? Mama says that all it ever does is rain there, and there are far too many farm animals.” She shuddered.

“Well, Da says that if we stay in place for too long, people might start to… notice me. So we move a lot. We’re going to Wales because that’s where my Mam is from. Lots of space, and fewer people I could come across if… something bad happens.” He recited, recalling what his Da said to him when he explained they were moving _again._ “I’ve lived in Cornwall, London, Brighton, and a few other places in Kent.” He mumbled.

“Is there anywhere you can even call home?” She questioned, sounding sad as a pout threatened to form, and Remus frowned

“I suppose London. It’s where I grew up until… that night.”

“How did it happen? Is that okay to ask?” She looked at him curiously, as if she was trying to figure out what he’d done to be bitten. Remus felt anger clawing at his stomach, wondering the same thing.

“I mean, I guess,” He began, awkwardly tugging at his trousers and then eventually digging his hands into the grass, just to give them something to do. “My Da upset some bigshot… you know… and so he decided to hurt my Da through me.”

“I bet it was Fenrir Greyback,” ‘Cissa stated confidently. “He’s supposed to be the most dangerous one there is.”

“I dunno.” Remus shrugged again. “I don’t remember much from then. I was only five.”

“Five,” She breathed. “Oh, what a horrible creature, to hurt a little boy!”

Remus couldn’t disagree, and didn’t want to talk about it anymore either. Instead they sat in silence, not looking at each other, until ‘Cissa piped up again. Remus gazed at her through his lashes, and saw that she looked rather put out.

“I suppose I shan’t see you at Hogwarts then, after all.” Cissa stated, her glittering eyes bright in the early spring sun. Remus thought she might start to cry, and then that would set him off. He’d already wept stupidly often about not being able to go to school with normal witches and wizards. It also sounded like she was going to leave him, and he’d be alone again. He didn't think he liked that feeling of loneliness all of a sudden.

“No, I guess not.” Remus looked at the grass, picking at the dried blades with numbed fingers as he tried to swallow back the sick feeling.

“Pity, that. I think it would have been interesting to have a werewolf at school.” Remus’ head shot up at her words, and he thought he could see a kind of sadness on her heart-shaped face where her lips drew downwards in a frown.

“But… my Da says werewolves are evil. They _kill_ people.”

‘Cissa looked him over, a singular pale brow rising in disbelief. “I think I would know evil if I saw it, and I think you’re the sweetest werewolf I’ve ever met.”

“Met loads, have you?”

“Oh, hush! I just meant that it’s disappointing, really. You hear all these stories about them, don’t you, so I expected you to be a bit more...” She gestured with her hands to make claws, and Remus couldn’t help but laugh a little at her.

“I think I might be a bit more scary… you know. _Then_.” He glanced  up to the sky, where the sun was high - safe. He was safe for now. “If you want claws, you’d have to see me in my cage.”

“A _cage?_ They keep you in a cage?” Her nose wrinkled in distaste. “That’s _barbaric_.”

“Better caged than a killer running around Kent.” Remus shrugged. “At least this way, my Mam and Da can keep everyone else safe.”

“Yes, but what about _you_ , Rem?” The girl pressed, leaning over to stare into his eyes as if she were looking for something. “Are you safe? Are you looked after?”

“They do the best they can.” Remus sniffed, but couldn’t help but feel the itching of what must have been a hundred scars by then - each one protesting at his words. He forced his hands away from where he desperately wanted to scratch; instead wringing them before him. He loathed talking about the wolf, about his parents. He just wanted to make a friend, but even then he couldn’t keep his secret for long.

He could never go to Hogwarts, that was for sure.

“That’s not -” Cissa began, and then stopped as a sharp, screeching voice called across the little magical park. “I have to go - Bella is calling me, and believe me, you don’t want to meet _her_.” She stood from her spot on the blanket, brushing off imaginary dirt from her skirts as she looked around in a panic. “I know it isn’t likely I’ll see you again, but promise you’ll remember this. Your father is wrong: a werewolf is only a werewolf once a month. The rest of the time… well. It seems to me like you’ll be a perfectly ordinary wizard. And I really do hope I will see you at Hogwarts one day.”

“I don’t think it’ll happen, but thanks.” Remus stood, already towering over the girl who was two years older than he.

“Have hope, Rem. Without it, what else is there?” She reached up on her toes to press her bowed lips to his cheek, warm and softer than even his mother’s. ‘Cissa was the first person Remus could remember in his short life other than her who willingly come close to him, showed any sort of affection, and he felt his cheeks heat at her attention.

She gave a delicate wave as she began to run backwards in the direction of the voice that screeched across the park, not yet willing to break eye contact. “I hope I’ll see you at the sorting in two years! I bet you’ll be a Ravenclaw.”

He raised a hand to his cheek once the girl was out of sight, face still tingling where her lips touched. For the first time in years, Rem felt a flutter of joy bubbling in his chest and something that tasted a little bit like hope on his tongue when he spoke, “My Da was a Ravenclaw.”

 

 **Heart ache, heart break** ****  
**All over town** ****  
**But something flipped like a switch when you came around** **  
** **And I'm in pieces, pick me up and put me together**

 

The train ride was excruciating.

Remus clutched his copy of _Fantastic Beasts_ to his chest, and several students chuckled, sprouting off that he was a Ravenclaw through and through as they passed his otherwise empty compartment. Then a small boy named Peter stumbled through the door, asked if he could sit, and they quietly chatted on and off the rest of the way to Scotland. It seemed the lad was about as terrified of going to Hogwarts as Remus was.

But he’d not seen her - the pretty girl from the park two years ago.

To his utter astonishment, the Sorting Hat decided that Remus was, in fact, fit for Gryffindor. It debated with him and his wolf for all of thirty seconds before shouting out the house at the top of its lungs. Remus nervously tumbled off the stool, practically threw the Hat into the hands of the austere looking Professor McGonagall who was giving him a faintly amused smile, before going to sit down at the table that was cheering loudly.

He joined a boy named Sirius and another called Frank, a girl named Lily, and another girl named Alice. A girl named Marlene joined them, followed by two more boys - James, a dark-haired, overly enthusiastic boy -  and Peter from the train, who took over five minutes to sort. A girl called Emmeline made up the newest Gryffindor students, and that was it.

Remus Lupin, werewolf, was officially a Hogwarts pupil.

He looked around the hall as the Headmaster, who he’d met on several occasions by then, made a speech with all sorts of rules for students, and spotted at the Slytherin table a head of shockingly golden blonde hair. His eyes widened as the girl looked up and met his gaze, but her expression was shuttered and drawn as an older, white-haired boy whispered in her ear.

She was disappointed. Da said that there was always a rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin, and his own heart sank. Wouldn’t she want to be friends anymore?

Headmaster Dumbledore finished his speech, if the round of applause was anything to go by, and mountains of food appeared before them. Everyone else dove for their favourite dishes or exclaimed in delight, but Remus picked at his dinner, suddenly no longer hungry.

It was an hour later when they were being led to their dormitories by two prefects that a hand grabbed his wrist. He’d been trailing behind the group, marvelling at everything around him, when his assailant pulled him through what appeared to be a tapestry and into a small alcove.

“What the - ‘Cissa?” Remus exclaimed. She hushed him, her eyes darting around with suspicion before she finally spoke once the chatter of voices was long gone.

“I knew you’d come.” She whispered, and hugged him so hard he nearly flew backwards. “I know I was a bit… rude at dinner. It’s just the way things are around here, you’ll see.” She stepped back and chewed on her lip, before offering a little smile. “It is so good to see you. I couldn’t believe it when you walked up to that stool!”

“Why?” He asked, utterly confused. “Why did you have to - to ignore me?”

“It’s… complicated, Rem. I… my family are very traditional, you might say. There are certain expectations of me, and in turn the people I am permitted to socialise with. Not that I don’t want to see you!” She hurried to say when Remus frowned and opened his mouth to speak. “It just means we need to be careful about it. You understand, of course?”

Remus, _of course_ , didn’t understand; but he nodded anyway, and she breathed a sigh of relief. “Good - that’s good. Now, we need to talk a bit more privately once you’ve settled in. How about... “ She tapped her lip, thoughtful. “There’s a corridor on the third floor, with a painting of fairies in a grove. Next to that is a classroom that no-one ever uses anymore. How about a week today, we meet up and talk about everything? I’m just dying to know how they let you into Hogwarts, and their plans for the moon!”

Remus felt giddy, wrapped up in ‘Cissa’s enthusiasm. “Yeah - I mean, I don’t know for sure yet, but I can meet you and I’ll know then anyway. I might get lost, but I’ll try my hardest. What time?”

“After dinner? When you see me get up to leave, wait five minutes and follow.” She hugged him again, jumping up a little. She was still smaller than him. “Oh, I’m so excited, Rem. I have so much to talk to you abo-”

She stopped as a shout could be heard along the corridor. “Remus? Oi, Remus Lupywhatsit! Where you gone?”

‘Cissa paled, and shoved Remus out of the tapestry before trying to make a dash for it, just as the curly-haired boy, Sirius, strolled around the corner. He stopped in his tracks, staring not at Remus but the blonde girl who was trying to make her way down the corridor. “Oi! _‘Cissy_ , is that you?”

‘Cissa stopped, shoulders going straight as a board, and she spun on her heel. Remus was shocked at her change - her icy smile, the hard set of her face, and her chin angled upward so that it looked far more pointy than moments ago. “Sirius.” She said coolly. “I suppose you’re terribly pleased with yourself, aren’t you?”

Sirius grinned, raking a hand through his hair. “Reckon I am, yeah. What you going to do, tell my dear old mum that I’ve destroyed a thousand years of Black history? Don’t you worry, I’ve already sent a message that’ll make the point perfectly clear to her.”

‘Cissa glared and stalked up to Sirius until she was toe to toe with him. “Listen here, you ungrateful little toad - you might think this attitude is something to be proud of, but mark my words: one day you will live to regret cutting yourself off from the family.”

“Don’t think so, to be honest. Who wants to be involved with a load of dark wizards and witches - right, Remus?” Sirius turned to look at him, and he could see his eyes were almost identical in colour to ‘Cissa’s.

“Uh… I mean, dark wizards are obviously bad news but…” He trailed off when he noticed that they both ignored him, turning back to argue with each other.

“C’mon, Remus. We need to get to the Common Room. Best leave snakes where they belong - in their pit.” Sirius stepped away from ‘Cissa, glaring.

“Oh, like the lions are any better.” She scoffed, flicking her hair back. “Run along, little boy - run along to your Common Room, if this is what I get for asking after you.” She lied smoothly, seamlessly, and Remus was flooded with relief - he wouldn’t have to try and explain himself to Sirius straight away.

“Oh, do shut up, cousin.” He flicked his black curls away from his face in a gesture so similar to ‘Cissa that Remus did a double-take, and stormed back the way he’d come. “C’mon, Remus - you don’t even know the password!”

Remus stared helplessly at the girl whose face morphed into an expression of pure misery, before following after the boy who, he was sure, would be trouble.  
  
  


* * *

  


**Part Two**

 

 _“Remus, please.” Narcissa begs, her delicate hand coming to rest over his scarred one. Remus is surprised he doesn’t flinch; but then, her touch would never have caused him to flinch... Before. Before the broken promises, the regrets. It’s strange how he’s forgotten the calm she could bring about in him since a time before he even knew what the names Black and Malfoy meant. “I didn’t kill her - I don’t know who did! Please - I came only as comfort. I know that you have..._ ”

 _Remus saw her throat bob, her eyes downcast, and snarled again. “You know I have what, Malfoy? You know I have no family left? No-one left to care for me or that I care about? Your_ family _has always seen to that.”_

_“I know how you have suffered!” She all but shrieks in his face, spots of red staining her high cheekbones as her anger takes hold for a moment. “I know…” Her voice drops to little more than a whisper, the heat of her earlier outburst gone as quickly as it came, but Remus can hear every word. “... I know you have a son.”_

Teddy. _Remus’ heart tears afresh. He is alone in his task to raise his miraculous little boy - a task he can never hope to complete in isolation. Not with the moon a looming threat over his every waking moment, his curse and burden. “Don’t you ever talk about my son.”_

_“You are all he has in the world, Remus. I kept my son and my life by a hair's breadth and the good will of Harry Potter. Do not throw this away on an old feud.”_

_“It wasn’t a feud - it was a betrayal. It was_ lies! _” Remus looks down at his wife and away from Narcissa Malfoy, but he hears her hissed intake of breath and feels twisted pleasure at the stab of pain he knows she must feel. It isn’t an alien feeling to him; that regret, that pain. It haunted him through his years alone, his reconciliation with Sirius, and his slow relationship with Dora - whose face in her sleep could look so much like her Aunt’s._

 _He would never have told her that. She could never know - she would see it as a betrayal, his sweet and fiery Dora. She wouldn’t understand that the love he held for her was something very different to the ones of his misspent youth._  
_  
“It was never meant to be. You know that, just as I do. And wonderful things came of your union, Remus - as they did mine. Our children will be the best of us.”_

_Remus clenches his jaw firmly, trying not to repeat the words he said in anger only moments before - yet still they simmer below the surface. Narcissa is still babbling some stuff and nonsense about his son, and hers. She has no right - no claim to his feelings or his family._

_Even though she had, once before. Moons ago._

_A lifetime ago._

 

 **These are the days we've been waiting for** ****  
**On days like these who could ask for more?** ****  
**Keep them coming 'cause we're not done yet** ****  
**These are the days we won't regret** **  
** **These are the days we won't forget**

 

“Rem - _psst,_ Rem!” Remus’ head shot up from the book he was reading, his eyes darting around to look for the source of the noise. A shadowy figure in the corner near the entrance of the library’s Restricted Section was gesturing for him to come over, and he recognised the cherry blossom scent immediately. Glancing around, Remus marked the place in his book before slipping out of his comfortable chair, moving towards the waving girl.

“What’s up?” He asked ‘Cissa once he’d closed in on her. The moment he was close, the upward tilt of her chin disappeared and her whole body relaxed, as if she were taking off a cloak. She quickly glanced around to ensure the coast was clear before she hugged him in greeting.

“I found something - a bit of a late Christmas present, if you like. You know how we talked about wishing that there was a way you wouldn’t be alone… _then_ ?” Remus nodded guardedly, and her lips broadened into a beaming smile. “Read this.” She passed him a magazine, _Fantastic Beasts Quarterly_ , chewing on her lips with barely concealed excitement. His eyes darted over the article - only a small section that ‘Cissa highlighted, under the heading _Newt Scamander: Dreamer or Deceived?_

 _Famed magizoologist Newt Scamander, in his recent book on sentient magical creatures around the world, has once again made stunning revelations and outlandish claims regarding the state of canon knowledge relating to creatures and beasts in the wizarding world. In the second chapter of his latest text, Scamander does not refute the assertion that a werewolf is considered a beast under magical legislature, or the following recognition by international ministries which establishes werewolves are able to perform magic and achieve human sentience until the night of the full moon. However, he states that whilst they obviously become vicious and dangerous at this time to other humans -  with the overwhelming desire to feed or to produce a pack of their own if they do not belong to one - he claims it has been noted on a number of occasions on encounters by witches and wizards that the werewolf in it’s form will_ only _attack humans. One cannot help but wonder if it is the wolf’s own animalistic influences that keep other creatures safe - including, Scamander asserts, house-elves, Veela, and animagi - or his age catching up with him, forcing him to make these unnaturally bold claims with little evidence except for anecdote.”_

Remus stopped reading at that, and sent ‘Cissa a fierce look - all too aware of what his best friend was planning. “No. Its way too dangerous - not to mention you’ve no-one to train you, and…”

‘Cissa held up a hand to stop him. “It’s my choice, Rem, and I trust Scamander. This article was published six months ago, and since then I’ve been researching and working on the animagus transformative process. It’s why I had to go home for Christmas, in order to make the potion in father’s laboratory - he had all of the ingredients.”  ‘Cissa stopped her rambling, standing tall and fairly glowing with pride.

“Cissa, what have you done?” He whispered, stomach sinking lower and lower. He couldn’t let her get hurt, nor risk her life on a whim - even if it was evidenced by the man she’d come to idolise since finding out that he didn’t hold an anti-werewolf stance.

“I want to be able to be with you. Your other friends - I know they _know_ now, but…” She trailed off, suddenly looking uncertain. “You were my first real friend before Hogwarts, and I simply want to do what I can to help make your life a little easier. I’ve seen your scars, and…”

Overcome, Remus flung his arms around her narrow shoulders and squeezed ‘Cissa tight to him. “You’re an idiot, you know that? An absolutely insane idiot. I’m not worth it, you can’t do this for me.”

He felt her shoulders shaking. Thinking she was crying, Remus pushed her back to try and wipe away her tears; instead, he found her shaking with mirth and the only tears she shed were ones of silent laughter.

“Oh, Rem. Do you really think you can stop me?” Narcissa stepped back, and drew her wand from her robes with a delicate swish. In a blink she was gone; and with the fluttering of wings and a coo of pleasure appeared the cocked head of a black dove, one that was watching him intently, perched on the desk in front of him.

Remus gaped, then ran, and he could hear her laughing all the way out of the library. He didn’t even pick up his books as he fled.

She cared enough for him to complete one of the most complicated transfigurations that existed. She’d researched, worked since at least the end of his first year to do it. This Pureblood princess, this untouchable girl that usually appeared so cold, cared enough about her werewolf friend to become an animagus.

Remus locked himself in the boys toilets and cried, unable to comprehend why Narcissa Black would risk everything… for him.

 

 **Time flew, cut through** ****  
**All over town** ****  
**You made me bleed when I look up and you're not around** **  
** **But I'm in pieces, pick me up and put me together**

 

_Dear Remus,_

_I hope this letter finds you well, and that you’re having a wonderful summer holiday. Thank you so much for my birthday present - the dove is so perfect. I’ll always wear it under my robes; even though we shan’t see it, we will always know it is there. I’ve not removed it since you sent it to me._

_I have wonderful news! I’ve been made a prefect - can you believe it? Father is so proud, though Mama finds it rather unseemly that a “Black Lady” should be forced to do such menial tasks as patrol halls. Stuff and nonsense - I get to take and award points too, and the_ bathroom! _The Prefects’ Bathroom! It is the stuff of legends in the Slytherin Common Room._

_Do you know what this means, though? I know that the first moon is early in September, so that Wednesday I will make sure that I’m patrolling, so I can sneak in and out of the castle easily with plenty of justifications for it! It will make our lives so much easier, and I can find all sorts of reasons to come and ‘harass’ you!_

_I miss you. Things at home have been… hard this year. I am scared to put too much down on paper, but I’m sure you’ve read the news about that man - and my family support him. Mama thinks it will bring us glory; Father is more hesitant but I think he will side with him. ‘Meda… my dear, sweet ‘Meda. She got married against my parents wishes, because she wanted no part in it. But two days later she was blasted off the family tree, and we are no longer permitted to communicate with her._

_You see, he was… oh, Merlin._

 

 _Remus, he was a_ ~~_mud_ ~~ _Muggleborn._

_I know you do not like our family politics. How could you, when you have Sirius to wax lyrical about how positively awful we are? However, it is seen as the highest betrayal to sully thousands of years of magical tradition. We are supposed to create stronger and stronger magical lines through marriages of powerful witches and wizards, from a long lineage of powerful witches and wizards themselves. There is so much history in our family, and we’re one of the oldest in Britain, so…_

_I’m rambling, I know, and I know you don’t agree with this. You must know that it means that I am preserving the strength of my family I love so dearly. Other times, it feels like it is a knife edge I must walk, and if I slip either way I’m burned from the tree, estranged forever, or a Pureblood supremacist like Bella. She sent ‘Meda a hexed and poisoned letter - hoping she’ll die, I think. I screamed bloody murder at her when I found out what she’d done. She hit me with… well. I was in bed for two days, unable to feed or bathe myself without help._

_I must now toe their line, or else face the same fate as ‘Meda. This year will be harder for the both of us, and there will be so many watching me, but I cannot withstand this alone._

_I just need a friend, Remus. I cannot wait to see you and escape this poisonous atmosphere I have inherited._

_Always,_

_‘Cissa_

 

Remus held the letter to his chest where it was hidden in his robe pocket, drifting off as he sat in his compartment on the Hogwarts Express with James, Sirius and Peter. His mind drifted, inadvertently, to the pretty witch he called a friend long before he’d met the Marauders, and the times they’d spent together in secret. Over summer, though, he’d started to feel a bit… peculiar, when it came to Narcissa Black. His cheeks kept burning, and every time he thought about her for too long, he got a whiff of her cherry blossom perfume. He’d even sniffed her letter a few times, feeling his heart beat a little bit quicker and his tummy flutter.

“Oi, Moony, you okay?” Peter nudged him, and he startled awake from his pleasant daydream about the blonde-haired girl.

“Hmm?”

“You’d just gone red. You feeling okay?” The mousey boy asked, his pointed features creasing.

“I’m fine, Petey. Just a bit warm.” Remus said, proud he didn’t stutter through his lie.

Peter didn’t look convinced. “If you say so. Aren’t you always cold, though?”

Remus opened his mouth to reply when a bang echoed around the compartment, and Sirius looked up from his game of Exploding Snap with a mutinous face covered in soot. A triumphant James grinned as he threw down the last of his cards. “I win!”

“Lovely.” Remus said drily, standing - taking the chance to escape Peter’s questioning. “I’m off to the loo, try not to burn the compartment down whilst I’m gone, yeah?”

“Who, us?” Sirius gestured between himself and James, a picture of pure innocence but for the smoking remnants of the cards between them and soot still smudged across his face.

“Precisely.” Remus drawled before escaping out into the corridor, closing the compartment door and leaning against the wall next to it. He sucked in lungfuls of air, glad to be out of the stifling room for a moment.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” A soft voice captured his ear, and a moment later, ‘Cissa strolled by, her shiny prefect badge standing out on her pristine robes. “Remus, you’ve grown… again.” Her eyes sparkled and formed teasing creases at the edges, and a blush began to creep up on him.

She looked so pretty, with her hair pinned back in places so her face was open and easy to read. She smelled of sweet blossoms and sunshine. Cissa had to tilt her head up to look at him- she wasn’t an overly short girl, but where her head once brushed the tips of his ears, she was now a whole head shorter than him.

“Well, that does tend to happen.” He forced a grin on his face and the blush down. “How are you? Really?” He spoke lowly, and dared to reach out to take her hand in a quick squeeze before dropping it again, lest they get caught.

“I… I’m coping, Remus.  That’s about all I can do these days, isn’t it?” Her face fell for a moment, and her head dipped to stare at her polished shoes. “I’m glad to be back here. Back to where I feel safer, where I feel at home. Where… Where I can’t be hurt.”

“I won’t let anyone hurt you, ‘Cissa.” Remus swore, and her head popped up so quickly he was surprised she didn’t have whiplash. “I promise.”

‘Cissa looked at him with a strange glint in her eye, before glancing up and down the corridor to ensure they were still alone. A crease formed between his brows momentarily, before his eyes widened to saucers and his breath hitched when her lips pressed to his cheek in a lingering kiss.

“If only that were true, Remus Lupin.” She murmured, her hand reaching up to brush his jaw. Her cheeks were dusted a rosy hue as her fingers danced against his skin that was quickly heating. “You need to shave.”

“I know.” His voice was hoarse as she leaned up again, pressing another kiss on his cheek that perilously close to his lips. Her face became hard and cold the minute she stepped away from him, no longer his ‘Cissa but the formidable Narcissa Black, and she disappeared in a swirl of robes down the corridor on her patrol. Remus’ hand touched the places she’d kissed him once, twice, before he ran to the loos and locked himself in, breathless and grinning like a lunatic.

He’d need a lot of cold water on his face before he could face his friends again. And figure out what in the name of Merlin he was supposed to do with the newly minted fact that he fancied Narcissa Black.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


**Part Three**

 

_The colours of the Great Hall bleed around them, mingling with the slowly settling dust and the flickering, sparkling starlight coming from the ceiling whose enchantments have remained whole by some gift of magic. The daylight has long-since faded, and orbs of light cast by exhausted teachers, students, Order members, and Aurors alike cast an eerie glow over the place where so many bodies rest - some peaceful, some not so._

_“Remus, put the wand down. Mrs. Malfoy helped Harry. We owe her a debt of gratitude, and you know that, despite her… political inclinations.” A stern voice by his ear harshly whispers. Minerva. His hand is trembling with the effort to keep his wand locked at Narcissa’s throat, and her eyes - those pretty eyes that captivated him as a young man - are wet with the tears that slip down her cheeks._

_“You chose this, Narcissa.” Remus speaks, his voice is still hoarse from his own yells of heartbreak, and the rush of battle that has long since left his body._

_“I know. Believe me, Remus, I know.”_

_Her voice is tremulous at best, and desolate at worst. He wonders if it is regret she is feeling, or something else entirely. Minerva’s hand comes to rest on the crook of his elbow and drags it down, his hand falling limply by his side and wand clattering to the floor. He doesn’t even flinch or protest when the older Professor picks it up and pockets it, so that he cannot hold it to the throat of the woman opposite him again. “The person that did this to Dora is long gone, Remus. I believe you can thank Molly Weasley for that.” She murmurs to him, loud enough for Narcissa to hear, and then walks off in a swirl of her robes that are covered in dust, blood, and torn at the sleeve._

_Narcissa’s eyes grow wider than saucers as she realises, just as Remus does, and she presses a hand to her chest as she is flooded with emotion that he cannot identify on her face. Still, he hopes it is anger, he hopes it is pain… he hopes that somewhere, she realises that the witch got exactly what she deserved._

_“Bella?” She whispers, choking, and Remus is somehow triumphant that she feels the pain of loss like he does. Yet she surprises him with her next words, and he feels dizzy with the hate and the inexplicable understanding that courses through him._

_“Oh, Bella, you fool. She was family! There are too many of our lives lost, too many of our own tortured and hurt, to the end of your wand.”_

_Narcissa falls to the floor, her care for her appearance long gone, and she digs her nails into the stone by Dora’s feet as she sobs heavily for the loss; for the toll the war has taken on her precious family._

_Remus feels a wash of memory overcome him as he stares down at her weeping form. She had always been so stoic, so impervious to pain. He had only ever seen her cry like this once before, and that had been his fault, in part._

 

 **These are the days we've been waiting for** ****  
**Rattle the cage and slam that door** ****  
**And the world is calling us but not just yet** ****  
**These are the days we won't regret** **  
** **These are the days we won't forget**

 

“‘Cissa, I don’t know what to do. They told me they’re training to become animagi, that they’ve already done the mandrake leaves.” Remus sat on the floor of the abandoned classroom long since christened as theirs. It was now comfortable with plushly transfigured chairs and sofas, beanbags and well-worn coffee tables, bookcases stuffed with texts, and a roaring fireplace that the castle seemed to have provided for them.

“It’s okay, Remus. Your friends are smart - much as I loathe to admit it - so I guessed this would come sooner or later.” Despite her cheery words, her shoulders sagged and she hunched over her book as she sat cross-legged, leaning against the little settee.

“I don’t think they’ve managed to control it yet… but it’ll be soon. I saw Peter with a tail last week.” Remus dragged himself up from the floor and crawled to sit beside her, his body aching with the weight of the moon that would be full in a matter of hours. She rested her head on his shoulder, staring at the fire that blazed, and a long exhale escaped her lips.

“It’s funny, you know.” She said after a moment, and Remus’ brows reached up towards his hairline.

“What is?”

“You would never have let me be this close to you, even a couple of years ago. Every time I touched you, you flinched, or tried to escape as quickly as you could. Now…” She raised her palm to face upwards, and without thinking Remus pressed his larger one against the slim contours of her hand. “You see?” She tilted her head to look up at him through pale lashes, and Remus tightened his grip on her hand until their fingers were laced together.

“All you.”

“I’m sure your friends helped.” She smiled softly, and Remus laughed.

“What, you think we sit and cuddle in the common room? Nah, the most we do is give each other manly pats on the back.”

‘Cissa giggled and nestled her head into his shoulder. “I suppose. I’m glad you’re a prefect. It’s given me a perfect excuse to be with you on patrols.”

“Wish it didn’t have to be excuses all the time, though.”

“I know.” Remus leaned his head against hers in defeat, and swore he could hear her pulse begin to pick up just a little. Glancing down, he could see her cheeks had that same blush that she seemed to wear more and more these days - from the heat, or from something else, he wasn’t sure. His own body responded - warmth flooding his chest, and his stomach tying itself in knots over and over again. “Remus? Are you alright? Your heart…”

‘Cissa turned and gazed up at him, her silver-blue eyes assessing him with an intensity he hadn’t seen since they’d very first met - or that time on the train, two years ago, when this whole fiasco started and his heart started to play cruel tricks on him. Remus swallowed heavily and looked away, but her free hand reached between them and turned his chin so that he would meet her gaze once more.

“I might be about to do another stupid thing, Remus Lupin.”

Her eyes flicked down to his lips, and then back up again - ever so slowly, as if she were cataloguing his every feature.

His voice came out more of a croak than a whisper. “Oh? W-what’s that?”

“I’m going to rattle my cage, I think.”

And then her lips were on his, soft and insistent, her arm looped around his neck and he grasped her waist to draw her closer. As her tongue danced along the seam of his lips, begging for depth, Remus swore that he could taste magic in the kiss.

 

 **Out on the midnight the wild ones howl** ****  
**The last of the lost boys have thrown in the towel** ****  
**We used to believe we were stars aligned** **  
** **You made a wish and I fell out of time**

 

“I wish…” Narcissa sighed, her golden hair forming a halo around her as she laid on the worn mattress in the Shack; the threadbare curtains closed and the bed they were on a rumpled mess. Remus could hear the quick gasps of her chest rising and falling, smell the salty tang of sweat on her skin mixed with his own, the rapid tattoo of her pulse, still racing in her veins. It matched his, as he drew in sharp breaths and tried to force his racing heart to calm.

It was quite the task, considering the phenomenal sex and the impending moonrise that would soon claim what senses he had left. In fact, he thought he hadn’t heard her at first until she repeated the words again, even softer still.

“What do you wish, ‘Cissa?” Remus whispered in return and turned his head to examine her face; pale silver-blue eyes stared up into the candlelit gloom, and a pained, pinched look captured her rosy lips. His eyes danced downward -  a pretty flush stained her cheeks and chest, making it look like her skin was glowing in the dim light.

“That this -” She gestured between them without even looking at him, an elegant flick of her wrist punctuating her words, “ - could be more than it is. That it will be.”

Butterflies ravaged in the pit of his stomach and he forced his words out around the lump in his throat. “You mean Pad - Sirius?” Remus tried to voice his thoughts casually, but ‘Cissa gave a delicate snort and shook her head.

“No - though, I suppose so, in some way. He’s been disinherited, I assume he’s told you?” She didn’t wait for Remus’ reply. “But of course, what with… with Andromeda marrying that mud-”

Narcissa stopped, clamming up so quickly he heard a sharp crack; the jarring contact of teeth against teeth. Remus raised up on his forearms with a snap of muscle and joints, glaring down at the young woman he’d loved for as long as he’d been a slave to the wolf. “Say it, Narcissa,” He said quietly, terse. “I know you think it anyway, so what’s the point pretending you’ve not been brainwashed by your mother and father’s bullshit?” His hands grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head, looming above her with unnatural speed. “What about us _creatures_ , hmm? Think we’re scum too?”

“Remus!” She squeaked as her nails scraped along the sheets and clutched into the pillow at her head. “Remus, control yourself!” She tried to wriggle her hands free, and Remus’ face formed a snarl before he flung her away, resting back on his heels and digging his nails into his knees. “You _know_ it’s not how I really feel. You _know_ that! But there are so many expectations of us, of _me_ , and you have to know that they aren’t compatible. I leave here in a matter of months and you’ve two years left to go - that’s just the start of it.” She rubbed at her wrists furiously, tears in her eyes and hair a perfect disaster around her shoulders as she sat up.

“What else?” Narcissa quickly looked away, staring at the floor, but Remus caught the glint of moisture dancing on her lashes. “ _What_ , ‘Cissa? There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“Of _course_ there are things I don’t - I cannot - tell you! Just like you have never told your little friends and my darling cousin about our escapades! Did it never occur to them why you knew it was safe for animagi to be with a fully transformed werewolf? Of course not.” She scoffed, her arms flung wide.

“Then what is such a massive deal, ‘Cissa?”

“An arranged marriage!” Narcissa all but screamed in his face, and then her flushed skin paled in moments as a hand flew to her mouth. “My parents - ” Her words were muffled until she lowered it so that she could speak clearly, meeting his eyes with defiance. “My parents have picked a suitor for me, and expect us to marry before the year is out.”

Remus stared, mouth agog. “Are you kidding me? Your parents have arranged your own bleeding marriage for you?”

“It’s… it isn’t unusual, Remus. Most eligible Purebloods will be married off by contract soon after Hogwarts, and father is insistent that neither Bella or I have the opportunity to find our own rebellious matches.” She tried to reason, bunching the sheets up from her waist to cover her bare chest.

“Do you know who?” He asked, taut as a bowstring, and Narcissa nibbled on her lip before nodding once. “Who?” He ground out.

“You have to understand, this wasn’t my choice.” She begged, crawling up to him - all long limbs - and rested her palms on his stubbled cheeks, running her fingers over the coarse hairs habitually. “I’ve no desire to be married off out of Hogwarts. And if it hadn’t been for… for ‘Meda, well, I wouldn’t have to.”

Despair crawled up from it’s pit in his stomach up his throat, along with the acrid tang of bile. “Is it someone I know?”

‘Cissa chewed on her lip before nodding once. “Yes, I believe so. Sirius certainly does. I’m to marry Lucius Malfoy - oh, Remus, I don’t want to! He’s so full of his own self-importance, thinks he’s Merlin’s gift to magic, and I’m certain we’re already more closely related than any sensible person would think proper.” She threw her arms around his neck, desperate to be held. “But I have no choice. Not if I want to see my family, still belong to them.”

Remus didn’t put his arms around her, instead letting her cling on to him whilst he desperately tried to process her hysterical babbling. _Lucius Malfoy._

She would be Narcissa _Malfoy_ by Christmas.

No longer the pretty girl from the park with a name he didn’t recognise. No longer the bubbling and vivacious teen who become his first true friend long before the Marauders, learned how to become an animagus, soothed him, _loved_ him against every wish her family might have held.  

No longer was she that stubborn woman who infuriated him and entranced him. No longer full of the same joy for life. No longer willing to buck her family’s expectations of a Pureblood woman. Returned to her cage.

No longer his.

“Well, that’s that then.” Remus choked out, gently pushing her off him, swallowing the lump in his throat with as much force as he could muster. “I think you should go, Narcissa.”

“Rem, please -” She begged, trying to press her lips to his in a desperate kiss.

“Just - just go. Go before my friends come. God forbid Sirius see you acting like a decent bloody human being for a change, right? Go play your role, like the good little precious Pureblood you are. Let your family do the thinking for you.” He spat angrily at her, refusing to make eye contact as she desperately tried to find purchase, dig her hands into the muscle of his hips and waist.

He shoved the girl away again, releasing her fingers from their death-grip, and she collapsed back on the bed. He could see her shoulders were heaving as her head bowed down, almost to touch her knees, and whilst every instinct was telling him to go back and hold her, he instead picked up her discarded uniform and threw it at her feet on the bed, article by article.

“Just go.”

The full moon that followed as she scampered from the room was one of the worst in his memory, and his bones broke right along with his heart.

 

 **These are the days we've been waiting for** ****  
**Neither of us knows what's in store,** ****  
**You just roll your window down and place your bets** ****  
**These are the days we won't regret** **  
** **These are the days we'll never forget**

 

“Round’s up!” Sirius crowed, placing a stack of shot glasses and a bottle of Ogden’s in the middle of their dormitory. “C’mon, Frankie boy, even you! We have to celebrate!”

Remus sat up on his bed, placing his Arithmancy book on his lap. “And what, Pads, are we celebrating today?”

“Didn't you hear? My darling cousin has got herself good and married, and I need a drink to erase the sight of them in the Prophet.” Sirius threw the paper down, open on the society pages, and Remus choked on a breath before coughing hard.  

 

 _Black weds Malfoy in historic union!_ _  
_ _A Happy Christmas for Lady Malfoy._

 

There were pictures. So many pictures. And she looked… exquisite. On a smug-looking Malfoy’s arm, she looked like a perfect model of pristine Pureblood aristocracy, but he could tell that she was miserable. Only her smile gave her away to Remus. It was the forced one, the lying one, the Slytherin one.

It was in her eyes. In the tilt of her chin. In the shape of her shoulders.

All of it was a lie.

“Alright, Moony?” James stared at him, brows raised above his glasses, and Remus shook himself firmly, fighting the anger threatening him.

“What do you think I am, bereft that Narcissa Bl-Malfoy will never love a lowly commoner like me?”

Everyone laughed, and Peter came up to thump his back as he reached over for one of the shots Sirius poured.

It was a shame none of them noticed he was telling the truth, he thought with no small hint of bitterness. But then, that was his own fault. His own stupid fault that he didn’t tell them when he had the chance. Instead, his heartbreak was his own cross to bear.

Remus reached for the bottle of firewhisky.

 

 **And these are the days (these are the days)** **  
** **And these are the days (these are the days)**

 

_He cannot own the fault for her hurt this time. But still he wants to run from her, and he turns his back to walk away._

_“Remus, please don’t. You and Draco are all I have left and I.. Lucius was taken, Draco is being kept here, my sister is dead.”_

_Remus is angry again, and spins on his heel to glare down at her. “She wasn’t your only sister. If you could swallow your own bloody pride and see that, then maybe you wouldn’t be in this position in the first place! Maybe we…”_

_He shuts his mouth with a snap, cutting off the words. “But we could never be, could we? It was just some game to you, some pathetic creature for you to try and rescue before you were married off like the good, naive little girl you were. Well, this is where following your precious family’s rhetoric got you. I hope you’re happy.”_

_“You were never - I - ” She lifts her head, her face is blotchy and puffy, eyes red-raw, and her lips swollen. She nods and cranes her long neck to stare out over the ruined hall, the sea of casualties and the dead, to stare at her son who is surrounded by Aurors, his face grim and mouth set as he nods. “I just wanted to be happy, you know. Wanted you to be happy, too. I wasn’t. I hope that Draco can learn from my mistakes, his father’s pressures, my reluctance to intervene with....”_

_Remus watches her intently as she folds in on herself again, a broken woman, a shade of the girl he’d loved. And he feels such pity, all the fight gone from him._

_He sits down next to her. Two fragile casualties of war, tied together by the dead woman on the floor in front of them, by a history of pain and joy in equal measure._

_“She looked like you, when she slept.” He reaches out to stroke Dora’s face tenderly, ignoring the icy feeling of her skin._

_Narcissa looks at him sharply, and then down at the supine woman before her. “You didn’t… because…”_

_Remus lets out a startled bark of a laugh, rough and uncertain. “No, Merlin no. I didn’t even realise at first that you are… were…” He trails off, and looks down at Dora again. She looks strangely peaceful, her lips slightly upturned. “And when I did, I fought it. For so long, I fought her when I could have just loved her more.”_

_“I am… so very sorry, Remus.” She looks like she is going to reach out to touch his arm again, and then withdraws it back to her lap. She appears so very worn, Remus thinks. Spread too thinly, in too many directions._

_Like he is, he knows. He needs her to go, to be left alone with his grief and his too-brief memories._

_“You should go, get some rest. I imagine it’s going to be a long few weeks for you now.”_

_Narcissa nods and stands up. “Yes - yes, of course, you’re right.” She pauses, and then gazes down at him with a pinched, uncertain set to her mouth. “Will you… will you tell ‘Meda that she is in my thoughts, that she always has been?”_

_He wants to tell her to do it herself. But he knows that it has been too long, and too fraught between them, for either woman to let go of their pride and speak. To admit that they need their family more than ever before - what precious little is left._

_“I will.”_

_He turns back to stare at the face of his beloved, and a traitorous part of him cannot help but see ‘Cissa in her._

 


End file.
